


=/=Legolas/Gimli, or, "Hair"

by just_ann_now



Series: Dwarvish Drabbles and Ficlets [10]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Hair, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 15:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_ann_now/pseuds/just_ann_now
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For a specific fic exchange request: "<i>Not</i> Legolas/Gimli". For best results, imagine in John Rhys-Davies's voice.</p>
    </blockquote>





	=/=Legolas/Gimli, or, "Hair"

**Author's Note:**

> For a specific fic exchange request: " _Not_ Legolas/Gimli". For best results, imagine in John Rhys-Davies's voice.

I don't know how that rumor got started, about the Elf and me being lovers. It's ridiculous.

Not that he does not have many fine qualities. He's an excellent archer, skillful with knives and swords. There's no one I'd rather be next to in a fight. Horses like him. He does not talk too much, unlike certain other companions. He has a pleasant voice, yet doesn't sing so often as to be annoying. He's good at braiding.

But look at him. He's pale and bland and - there's no kind way to say this - hairless. I've seen the Elf naked, and, to be honest, I was hard put not to be completely revolted. Under his clothing he looks like a skinned rabbit. 

Dwarves, as you may or may not know, are aroused by hair - coarse and curling or long and silky; rich full beards, on both men and women; body hair, thick and lush everywhere. This is probably why I enjoy the Rohirrim so much. Between the flowing hair - vivid auburn, flame red, sunlit wheat, flaxen white - and the beards - cunningly braided and ornamented, beads and bells and tiny bits of gold - it's a feast for the senses. I want to sample it all. 

See that man over there, the one who looks like a blacksmith, huge arms and a neck like a bull? He's been eyeing me all evening. I can almost imagine his scent, sweat and smoke, the tang of the copper he's been forging. I want to bury my fingers in his curls, slide my hand up under his beard to the tender skin below his ear, lean forward and taste him. One more drink to the new king - _Westu Éomer hal!_ \- and I'll go over there and ask if he'd like me to hammer at his anvil.


End file.
